


Fragments

by ignitethestars



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, I'm not really sure what this is tbh, Light Angst, Memory Alteration, Spoilers for 4x19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 16:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10745820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitethestars/pseuds/ignitethestars
Summary: Following Coulson's speech, more and more fragments of the Other World continue to plague Fitz.





	Fragments

**Author's Note:**

> Could this be taken as a coda? I dunno. It's definitely not canon-compliant (LET HIM REMEMBER, YOU COWARDS) but it's something? Brief mentions of Aida/Madame Hydra/Ophelia/Whatever Her Name Is Now and Fitz being together. This is probably the shortest fic I've ever written.

_ “And I am an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D,”  _ said Phil Coulson for the millionth time. Fitz pressed rewind and the video began to replay. The former teacher’s words had become white noise in the past hour, but they had stirred something inside of him. 

 

Fitz didn’t understand why Coulson’s words had such an affect on him: he had never joined S.H.I.E.L.D, hadn’t been there for their downfall. But he’d been there for Hydra’s rise; it’d been easy. The public had instantly welcomed them. Until now.

 

But now he was starting to get fragments of a world where none of this happened (Ophelia’s world, most likely, where S.H.I.E.L.D. had treated her like a  _ thing _ instead of a person). A world where he had been S.H.I.E.L.D., had passed through the first few months at the Academy as a shy loner, only to find himself partnered with an exuberant brunette woman.

 

Whenever he dreamed of that world, which he did a lot, the fragments were jumbled, blurry. The things he saw were out of order and made no sense. But most of the things he saw, he saw her with him.

 

He didn’t know her name, or what she sounded like, or what she even looked like (she was always a blur) but he wanted to. He needed to know, desperately. He felt like her identity was just on the tip of his tongue, but he could never find the answers. When he dared to think too much about it, he could practically  _ feel _ her; the coolness of her skin against his, a faint whisper by his side…it was like she was in his very veins.

 

Coulson’s voice cut through Fitz’s pondering like a knife, snapping him back to the here and now. Once again, Fitz felt like he was on the edge of a precipice, a step away from the answers he so desperately needed.

 

And perhaps there was one person who already knew.

 

Abandoning his seat, Fitz slipped out of the lab with a catlike grace, making his way down the gray hallways. No one dared to utter a word to him, simply moving out of his way when needed. He swung the door open and closed it as quietly as possible.

 

In the corner of the room, curled on the floor, was a bloody and bruised Holden Radcliffe. At the sound of the door closing, he looked up wearily. When he saw it was Fitz, Radcliffe gave a shaky laugh. “Come to torture me again?” he asked, “Or to beat me?”

 

Fitz remained quiet, suddenly second guessing himself. Wiggling his hands at his sides--a nervous tick he’d developed lately--he took a step forward into the light. “I want answers and you’re the one man who has them.”

 

Radcliffe looked up, intrigued. “What answers are you looking for?”

 

Fitz remained quiet for a long moment, before finally gathering the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing him for days:

 

“This woman you mentioned...Jemma Simmons...tell me about her.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember to comment and leave kudos, if you're comfortable with that! <3


End file.
